Heroes of the Werewolf Nation
Brenna the Swift The sky was blood red at dawn. Brenna was whittling arrows on top of a tree, waiting for her pack to gather on the large field where several battalions of vampires and turncoat wolves will march through to reach the Bloodveil encampment. She took a berry from her pouch and flicked it into her mouth as her pack approached and jumped off the tree to meet them. All of them carried ropes, stakes and all sorts of odd looking weaponry they used to set up various traps throughout the forest and fields. In the evening when the sun was gone, the sound of hundreds of footsteps ranged throughout the valley. Brenna and her pack, and many other pack members and leaders scattered throughout the valley, hidden in brushes and on top of trees. She grasped for her quiver and pulled out a red feathered wooden arrow and nocked it, so did everyone else. They fired at the sky and the volley of arrows descended upon vampire and wolf alike, the battle has begun. The forces of the Bloodveil clan and the enemy has colided, blood flowed on the fields and heads rolled. The battle lasted for hours and the neverending waves of enemies weakened the Bloodveil forces, they started retreating. Many of the wolves that ran back to the main encampment were mowed down by vampires or the turncoat wolves, Brenna sent her whole pack back to the encampment. Brenna stood alone on the hill and grasped for an arrow, she nocked it and summoned the spirits of fire to her aid. The arrow was released and it was lit on fire as it descended upon the ranks of the enemy, creating a tornado of fire where it landed, and so she sent arrow after arrow. After firing all of her arrows, she assumed her wolf form and dropped down for a final fight where she slaughtered a great amount of the invaders before being overwhelmed by their numbers. Eirik the Wise Eirik was a wise man, but his wisdom often led him astray from his path and ultimately to his demise. But his death was remembered as a heroic one, he sacrificed himself for the good of his clan. Him and his bretheren stood at the forefront of the battle, awaiting the forces of the enemy to collide with them. He held his hammer tightly as the forces approached, Eirik knew that they would be overwhelmed but he volunteered to hold the lines long enough for his people to evacuate. The war horn echoed throughout the mountains, they assumed their true forms and ran to meet their enemy head on, they bit, clawed and bashed their way throughout their first wave with little to no deaths on their side. When the second wave rushed in through the mountain pass, the unleashed a volley of arrows to descend upon the wolves, the tips were made of silver and cut deep into their flesh, eroding inside and causing massive pain to the beasts that were hit by the arrows. Eirik knew that this is the final stand and sent off those who were wounded to retreat and made a line across the valley with the remaining shamans of his clan. He called forth the spirits that ward the earth to aid him in return for the ultimate sacrifice. His hammer smashed agains the ground. The earth started rumbling and tearing, the fury of nature was unleashed as the forces of the advesary were consumed into the earth along with Eirik and his pack of shamans. Him and his packmates sacrificed themselves for the well being of their clan, their family. Their names were written down in ancient glyphs and are known to the wolves even in these desperate times. Stygfot the Strong Mikael of the Ironside clan, the first son of the chieftain. Stygfot, or 'Ugly-foot', earned his moniker during a skirmish in the mountain ranges of his homeland; having only had time to finish part of the transformation into his true form, he perforated a vampire's ribcage with his foot, killing the creature instantly, but leaving himself stuck dragging a vampire's carcass about as means of a boot for the remainder of the battle. The fields were covered by the bodies of wolf and vampier alike, the forests were burning and the last of the Ironside defenders stood tall with their weaponry and shields in hand, and the wolves were stalking their prey in the brushes, ready to slaughter the invaders. Mikael held his family's sword in hand as his claws grew longer and sharper and his canines became a weapon. His eyes changed their colour into a bright orange as he rushed into the invaders, cutting, slashing, clawing and biting through them as the fires consumed everything around him. Only him and his brother were standing on their feet when the adversary surrounded them. They looked at eachother and cracked a smile and held their swords high an yelled the words that later became the war cry of their whole clan; "Blood and thunder!" The fallen heroes of Udyrholl heard their chants and cried thunder. The clouds teared apart and the skies became red as thunder struck the forces of the enemy, turning them to ashes and reducing them to dust, the snow that fell turned into rain. The rain was blood from the seas of Udyrholl. The vampires that tried to drink the blood from the pools were poisoned and the blood was turned melted them like acid by their mere touch. However, the werewolves that were touched by the rain had their strength replenished and their wounds healed in matter of seconds. They came back to the battle and tore the fleeing turncoat wolves and vampires to shreds and defended their homeland once again. Thorvald, the harbinger of the storm is a descendant of his line and the last living Ironside that walks the earth these days. His homeland was invaded long ago